


A New Kind of Normal

by rainingover



Category: Unknown Code (Webcomic)
Genre: Blood and Violence, Canon Universe, Canon-Typical Violence, Developing Relationship, Dubcon Kissing, Kissing, M/M, Nightmares, Roommates, Sharing a Bed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-25
Updated: 2017-12-25
Packaged: 2019-02-16 08:39:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,438
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13050456
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rainingover/pseuds/rainingover
Summary: Phil doesn't even have to open his eyes to know he isn't alone tonight. “Hammer?”Hammer is sitting cross-legged on the floor next to his bed. Just there. Just staring. He’d get mad about it, but that doesn’t work. Phil’s found that out more than once over the last month of it happening.“Yes?” Hammer looks surprisingly wide awake for someone who never seems to sleep.“Have you been watching me sleep?” Phil rubs at his face. “Again?”





	A New Kind of Normal

**Author's Note:**

  * For [higuchi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/higuchi/gifts).



> Thank you so much for your great prompts. I'm super fond of these characters so I really hope you enjoy this. Have a lovely Yuletide!
> 
> (Just in case anyone is concerned, there are no spoilers for anything past episode 35 in this story.)

Phil has never had a roommate before now. He doesn't have siblings and he hasn't been on any overnight school trips, not since his father died, anyway.

He's thought about it before of course - what it might be like, in the future, when he could leave the woman who tries to be his mother behind and move out. Maybe he and Il Soo would move into an apartment, drink beer together in their shared kitchen, invite friends over on a Friday night to party, or study, whatever. He hadn't ever ironed out the minor details; this was only ever a future possibility, after all. It was only a fleeting thought on the peripheral of his mind and so nothing was certain.

Except for the fact that in this hypothetical future, whoever his roommate might be, they definitely wouldn't watch him sleep.

Then again, his daydreams also failed to include the possibility of risking his life on a daily basis to save humanity from an alien virus. It didn't include murder. It didn't include government secrets and the threat of execution. And it definitely didn't include Hammer the Pixel.

Phil doesn't even have to open his eyes to know he isn't alone tonight. “Hammer?”

Hammer is sitting cross-legged on the floor next to his bed. Just there. Just staring. He’d get mad about it, but that doesn’t work. Phil’s found that out more than once over the last month of it happening.

“Yes?” Hammer looks surprisingly wide awake for someone who never seems to sleep.

“Have you been watching me sleep?” Phil rubs at his face. “Again?”

Hammer doesn’t confirm or deny this, but then, he doesn’t have to. "Want me to make you breakfast instead?" He asks, getting onto his feet.

Breakfast means chocolate. It’s all the kid seems to eat. Phil can’t quite figure out how Hammer stays so skinny since he is never more than a foot away from a bar of the stuff. Not that Phil’s been paying close attention to Hammer’s figure or anything. It’s just-- he’s always _there_ , trying to be noticed. Which would be endearing if he wasn’t a functioning psychopath. But, then, so is their other roommate. Maybe he is too. He _is_ a murderer, after all.

Phil thinks about that night a lot. Flickers of memories flood his vision - the memories that he tries so desperately to block out, except he can't, they won't budge. It's fucked up, it's so fucked up that, really, rooming with Hammer is the least of his worries, even if he is possessive, and over-eager, and just plain old weird.

Hammer is back in the room, a blue haired whirlwind. He shoves a mug into Phil's hands and says, "I took your silence to mean yes.”

When Phil looks down, he is faced with a cup of hot, steaming tea, with a stick of milk chocolate haphazardly thrown into the middle, melting in thick swirls. It's the most ridiculous combination, and even if Hammer has tried to feed it to him on countless occasions, Phil can't bring himself to actually drink it. Sometimes he removes the chocolate before it melts, but the tea just tastes too sickly then.

"It didn't mean yes," he replies.

The chocolate melts, the concoction goes cold, and Phil lies awake and only gets out of bed when he's called to log into the portal and risk life and limb, and sanity, all over again.

 

\--

 

Someone kills their entire family and the government hone in on a new way of the code causing terror. This time it’s taken over an entire range of home security systems popular across South East Asia and Phil has spent seven hours logged in, working. He calls it working to normalise it. Succubus suggested that and to her credit, it does help.

When he gets back to the apartment it’s strangely quiet, and he hopes he has the place to himself. It’s easier to wind down when he doesn’t feel like he has to be watching over his shoulder for either of his roommates, neither of whom make him feel totally comfortable. Ji You’s room is empty, so he’s probably still at the Fortress, embarrassing himself in front of Amber, or roaming the streets looking for people to terrorise with his teenage angst.

Hammer’s room is empty too. But unfortunately it’s only because he’s to be found in the kitchen, rifling through the cupboards with a determined frown.

Phil notices that he is wearing the clothes he had on when Phil left the apartment yesterday. Maybe he hasn't slept either, Phil thinks, or maybe he's slept in them. Maybe Hammer never sleeps. Phil wouldn't be surprised, nothing surprises him anymore.

Hammer stops tearing the kitchen apart when he notices Phil in the doorway and his face lights up. “You’re back!”

Phil scowls, but Hammer doesn’t notice. It's either that or he just doesn’t care.

He runs a hand through his hair and launches into chatter. "I've been speaking with Succubus. She thinks the code is spreading more rapidly than it has ever been before. I've been researching all night." He looks at his watch and laughs as though the time is a fantastic surprise. "It's been over twelve hours!"

That explains yesterday's clothes, then.

"And?" 

"And I need a break. You need a break too! Did anyone die today? Forcers, I mean?" He adds. Of course he only cares about Forcers. Civilians dying has become kind of expected, now, which was terrifying at first, but now it just seems normal. Sometimes they don’t seem to matter at all to the people around him, to Hammer and the other Forcers, and they’ve never mattered to Ji You, so that’s a given. Nothing changes there.

Phil knows to expect it: Collateral damage happens, it's bound to when the code is out there, infecting humanity at such an alarming rate. Maybe civilian lives have stopped mattering to Phil sometimes too, no matter how much he tells himself that he won't become like everyone else.

Sometimes Phil wonders if he or Hammer or Succubus are even any better than the monsters they fight at all.

"I-- I don't know about the others." His legs are tired and it feels like he's been running for days, even though he's just been lying still, logged into the portal. It still drains him, mentally and physically. "I just know that I didn't die."

"I do worry about that." Hammer looks conflicted for a second, and for a moment Phil is glad there is someone who cares about him, even if it is an obsessed chocoholic who is determined to worm his way into his heart, or his bed or something. Both, maybe. Hammer pauses for a moment, to think about the horrors of a life without Phil and then he asks, "Do you want some chocolate tea?"

“I’ll just have a glass of cold water,” Phil replies. “If you're offering.”

Hammer looks intrigued. “Water with chocolate...” He turns back to the cupboard he’s in front of and pulls out a stack of bars of chocolate from the back of it, ripping the wrappers off in one easy go. Where on earth all of this chocolate comes from, Phil has no idea. They're just there all the time, an unlimited stash of fucking sugar. “Two sticks or three?”

“No- no, Hammer, you can’t just put chocolate in--” Phil starts, but he's too slow and Hammer is too wired and there is a glass of water in his hand, a stick of chocolate dumped in it, before Phil can even finish his sentence.

Hammer looks pleased with himself and it’s almost cute, but mostly just unsettling. “You’re welcome,” he says, as he leaves the room, his own bar of chocolate clutched in his hand. He’s probably going back to his room to research for another twelve hours.

“I didn’t say thank you,” Phil mutters to himself, but he’s too tired to care if Hammer hears him.

 

\--

 

Hammer waits until their roommate has closed the door behind him and leans across the table top. "Don't you think," he says with a wrinkled nose, “Song Ji You is _so_ weird?”

“ _You’re_ weird." Phil pushes the beef around his plate. "He’s a serial killer.”

“A weird serial killer," Hammer replies, mouth full of food. Phil doesn't understand how Hammer can be so hungry when he was devouring a bar of chocolate less than an hour before. "I wonder if we can get rid of him." He adds, looking thoughtful, like he might be calculating a plan.

"Get rid of him?" Phil isn’t quite sure what Hammer is alluding to. Maybe, he wonders, Hammer really does have the authority to trigger his nano switch.

Hammer pauses and looks up from his plate, mouth still full. "Make him move out… So he isn't living here with us."

"Oh, right. Yeah." Phil nods. "I think we're expected to keep an eye on him now he's here. As if they don't expect enough from us, we have to babysit the serial killer too."

Hammer smiles at this. He likes it when Phil refers to them as a unit, he's told him so and, while Phil doesn't plan on going out of his way to please Hammer, it isn't so bad if he does. He needs someone else on his side who is knowledgeable about the code and the invasion if he wants to stay alive when he's in the game. For all of the hype and self importance of the Forcers, he knows that the lower level Forcers are all pretty much disposable - new recruits show up at the Fortress every week or so now as the virus spreads more rapidly, and there would be more if some people exposed didn't choose to take the pill. Phil sometimes wonders if he should have taken the it himself when he had the choice.

“Do you think that we're disposable?” He asks Hammer.

Hammer laughs loudly at this, as though it's absurd. “I’m not disposable, Phil," he says. "And you’re not disposable to me.”

“At least I’m important to someone,” Phil mutters.

“You’ve always been important to me," Hammer says. “Since our first match on T.O.F.”

“That's because you're a creep." Phil stabs at what is left on his plate. He’d feel bad about saying things like this, but they’re true and Hammer doesn’t seem to care anyway. His expression doesn’t even falter, instead he just shrugs.

“I can’t help being such a fan of you.” He leans forward again, all eager and excitable, and says, “Natural Born Hero has always been my number one, ultimate opponent.”

“Ultimate opponent?" Phil scoffs. He wonders if Hammer has conveniently forgotten their shared history, or whether he’s just completely deluded about it. "You lost every single fight we had. One hundred and fifty of them!"

“Exactly.” Hammer grins at him. “I couldn't believe how naturally you adapted to the game. I was always your virtual fan, you know that.”

Phil mulls this over as he eats. Finally, he shakes his head and points his knife at Hammer. "No, no. You were my virtual _stalker_.”

Hammer says, "You like me, though. You say I'm a creep, but you like me now. Don't you?”

Phil considers this, “Like is a strong word,” he replies, but this seems to be enough to satisfy Hammer.

 

\--

 

There's another night when Phil is so tired that it physically hurts. Phil digs the heels of his palms into his eyes and groans as they get inside the relative sanctuary of their home. It's late, or it's early, depending on your viewpoint, and he and Ji You have only just made it back from their last mission.

Hammer is in the kitchen when they arrive, surrounded by take-out cartons.

"I hope you've saved us some," Ji You says, picking up half empty cartons and peering inside. He doesn't look impressed. 

"Oh, I ordered all of this about six hours ago. It's cold now." Hammer breaks into the sneaky smile he likes to keep for the likes of Ji You. "But you can have the scraps if you're a good dog."

"I could snap your neck in your sleep." Ji You snarls. "You're lucky that I'm tired." He drops the carton and stalks out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

Phil shakes his head. "Anyone would think you have a death-wish," he says. "Have you forgotten the part where he's an actual, literal serial-killer?"

Hammer just laughs, and the way his shoulders shake with it makes Phil smile despite his tiredness. 

 

\--

 

Phil wakes up one night to a ringing in his ears and a hand on his arm. "What?" He opens his eyes to Hammer standing over him in a wary stance.

"You've been shouting," Hammer says. Ah, so _that's_ why his throat feels so hoarse. "It woke me up," Hammer adds, as if to explain his presence. He doesn't look as though he's been asleep, though - still dressed in jeans and a hoodie. Phil feels for his cellphone on the table beside his bed and checks the time. It's almost four in the morning.

"Sorry," Phil mutters. "What was I shouting about?"

He doesn't actually need the answer, though, not really. He only has one nightmare these days, and it's recurring - night after night after night of fighting back, trying to prise the knife from the iron grip of her tightly closed fist. Of failing to, of resorting to turning the knife in her own hands. And then the blood - _so_ much blood. Blood in his hair, in his mouth, drenched through his school uniform so that the cotton sticks to his chest like it used to when he'd get caught in the rain after class.

Phil dreams about killing, then wakes up and logs in and pretends he's working here out of his own free will. And then goes home to Hammer and Ji You like they're starring in the most fucked up season of Roommates ever aired.

Hammer just asks his own question. “Did you really think that you were going to die that night?”

Phil’s throat is dry. "Maybe I did die. Maybe this is hell." He scowls as Hammer pushes at his leg and makes himself some space to sit down on the bed. Hammer continues, regardless of Phil's displeasure.

"But I'm here," Hammer says, planting himself down and wriggles a little to force Phil to move further over.

 _And?_ Phil thinks. But instead he pulls at the blanket which has ridden down his chest from Hammer's fidgeting and asks, “Why do they do it to us? Subject us to tests, let us die... Fuck with our minds when we're meant to be helping them?”

“To show that they own you now, that you're here because your other option is to rot in prison. Or death.” He’s so matter of fact about it, it would be chilling if Phil didn't know he was right. “And because it _works_. You defeated that level so quickly! You know, the moniker Natural Born Hero really does suit you more than Phil, because you are--”

“Please." Phil interrupts him, because if he doesn't stop him now, Hammer might never stop talking. Once he starts on his whole fan spiel, things tend to spiral out of control. "Can you _please_ just shut up for once?”

Hammer blinks, but he does close his mouth. It's a damn near miracle. “Can I stay in the room with you though?” He says after a few moments. “Quietly?”

“If I say no will you leave?” Phil asks.

Hammer smiles. “Probably not.”

“Fine, but don't say another word.” Phil sighs. “And don't try to cuddle me.”

Hammer lies down anyway, cuddles up into his side and falls asleep promptly, a dead weight under his arm. It isn't the worst experience of his life - not by far considering what he's been through lately. In fact, it's- it's alright. Comforting, even.

In his dreams, he still fights for his life against a hundred clones of the woman who wasn't his mother, and when he wakes up he can still feel the blood running down his arms and pooling into his cupped hands.

Hammer is gone by morning, but there's a bar of half eaten chocolate on the nightstand, and, for once, Phil reaches over and takes a bite.

 

\--

 

Hammer takes Phil's one night of weakness as some sort of blanket invitation to be waiting, sat cross legged on Phil's bed, a few days later.

"What are you doing?" Phil does a double take when he sees him. "Weren't you at the Fortress when I left?"

Hammer nods. Phil has no idea how he got home so fast, but it probably involved driving his bike at an abnormally high speed. "You fought terribly today," Hammer says, arms folded neatly across his chest.

"Not you as well." Phil scowls and throws open the closet door to hang up his jacket. He's already had to listen to Song Ji You and even the twins, who Phil swears he's never seen do anything, point out that his concentration has been off. It's lucky he got out alive at all and, if he's completely honest, he's a little shaken up by it. Strider hadn't looked too happy when he'd passed him in the hallway, and even if Succubus had given him a half-hearted thumbs up, he couldn't shake his frustration.

It's funny how easy it is to forget that you want to live until there's a virtual knife at your throat. Not to mention, the nano machine inside of him that could kill him at any time, if the Fortress don't like something he's done.

He takes a deep breath, holds it in for as long as he can and turns back to face Hammer with the most nonplussed expression he can muster. "I'm fine."

"I'm just saying... I don't think you're resting properly," Hammer says. It's the understatement of the century, but Phil can't see why it has anything to do with Hammer.

"So?" Phil shrugs. "Leave me alone and I'll rest."

"No you won't. You'll have nightmares about your past, and you'll wake up in a cold sweat shouting about the blood, and then you'll toss and turn for the rest of the night."

Phil's mouth opens, and then it closes. He has nothing to say to this, because Hammer is right. And he has definitely been watching Phil sleep more often than he's ever admitted. Phil sighs.

"So, you're suggesting that - in order for me to be well rested - I should stay awake, with you? That's- that's fucking stupid, Hammer." He laughs. "I thought you were meant to be a genius."

Hammer doesn't look even the slightest bit offended. He just stares at Phil like he's missing the point entirely and says, "I'm suggesting that I stay and make sure you're okay. I should sleep here with you."

“No way." Phil holds open his door and motions for Hammer to exit through it. "Go and hack something or do some research. That's what you're good at."

“You know I'm not going to move." Hammer is resolute.

“If you liked me then you would listen to me," Phil says, trying a new tactic. If Hammer likes him as much as he claims, surely he won't want to piss him off too much.

Hammer muses on this reply. “I am listening to you, and I'm replying. So do you want to sleep well or not?”

Phil inhales for so long he almost forgets to breathe out at all this time. When he does, he stares down Hammer and his resolute stance, his crossed arms and defiantly set chin, and says, “I swear, if you wake me up, I will kick you out.”

 

\--

 

Phil wakes up during the night anyway, bolting upright, blinking into the darkness, a scream at his lips. "Fuck," he whispers.

"It's okay, it's not real," Hammer whispers to him from somewhere under the blanket next to him. 

"Fuck," Phil says it again, because he'd almost forgotten to expect a small body pressed into his side when he woke up in the night and it's a surprise - the words, the warmth. It's a surprise that it feels better like this.

"More sleep," Hammer tells him, and tugs at his elbow until Phil lies back down, and, somehow, when he next wakes up not only is it daylight outside, but he can't even remember what he's been dreaming about at all.

 

\--

 

Hammer stops working so late and starts crawling into bed with Phil as though it’s his right to do whatever he damn pleases. He probably thinks it is, Phil realises, since he doesn’t exactly seem to understand personal space or boundaries or the fact that his actions make Phil feel slightly uncomfortable.

And it’s not like Phil doesn’t tell him, it’s just that… Well, Hammer doesn’t care. Or maybe Phil doesn’t care, really. And maybe Hammer can tell, so he ignores Phil's huffing and puffing, until Phil can't be bothered continuing. 

Phil knows he _should_ care more, but Hammer is right: Phil needs more rest to work well when he’s logged into the server. He needs to be prepared to wake up and fuck with a damn alien virus, or whatever this thing is, every damn day. And, if he is being honest with himself, having someone there when he wakes up in the night has actually helped.

Even if the person he wakes up to is Hammer The (Obsessed) Pixel. 

When Phil wakes up in the middle of the night after a particularly harrowing night terror (his limbs tense, his heartbeat racing), he finds melted chocolate in his bed.

"It's just a dream," Hammer says from somewhere close by in the darkness. His voice is muffled, as though he’s...  

_Wait._

“Did you -- are you… Hammer, are you're eating chocolate in my bed?" Phil hisses. He grabs for his phone and turns on the flashlight, to catch the tiny criminal in the act.

“Hungry.” Hammer squints into the sudden light. He has chocolate on his mouth. “Forgot to eat yesterday. Was busy with Succubus.”

“Well hurry up,” Phil says. Honestly, this whole scene is making him nervous more than annoyed. The smear of chocolate on Hammer’s top lip is weirdly distracting and Phil finds that he wants to wipe it off, but he can't, because-- because he just _can’t._ He won't allow himself to.

Phil’s heart beats in his ears. “You're looking at me in a strange way,” Hammer says, leans in towards the light and smiles, a manic sort of toothy grin that is strangely endearing all things considered.

“No I'm not!” Phil denies anything of the sort. “I’m just half asleep. Shut up.”

Hammer is giggling now. And it's odd, because he's so small here next to Phil, and he's so harmless looking - kind of cute, really. Except Hammer is clever. Phil _knows_ he's clever. He's a fucking computer genius. And he's sly, and he worms his way into Phil’s business and tells him things he claims are secrets. Flatters him and talks him up and gushes over his talents. He knows what he's doing. And it's _working._

“I have work to do.” Hammer wriggles his way out of the bed, leaving the blanket flipped over Phil’s face. “Try to sleep, I’ll come back in and check on you later,” he says as he leaves the room.

 _Thank goodness_ , Phil thinks. Expect, he isn't glad that Hammer has left as much as he is glad that Hammer has left before Phil lost his entire goddamn mind and did something he'd regret, like stare for too long at Hammer's face.

Phil is immediately grateful for the peace and quiet, except getting back to sleep is proving annoyingly difficult. He’s got used to Hammer’s incessant space invading, although he really wishes he could say otherwise. 

When he does fall asleep, Phil tosses and turns and dreams about stabbing deranged clones of a woman he once had to murder. And then he dreams about chocolate tasting kisses that he isn't sure he wants, but apparently he definitely doesn't _not_ want either.

Song Ji You tells him he looks like a mangled corpse the next morning, and he would know what one (or fifteen) of those looks like. Phil gives him a sarcastic ‘thanks’ in response.

He finds Hammer asleep on his computer keyboard, face smushed against the keys, and it takes a good five minutes to fight off the urge he feels to carry him back to his bed.

 

\--

 

There's a night when Phil wakes up from a nightmare and finds he can't stand being in the apartment a second longer. Can't stand the smell of last night's take-out noodles still lingering in the air. Can't stand the sight of the Fortress approved furniture in his room. Can't stand himself, his brain, the way that it replays the night he killed her over and over and over, as if it's a never-ending rerun of an old sitcom on television.

It doesn't help that Hammer hasn't even tried to sneak his way into Phil's bed lately. He's at the Fortress most of the time now - day and night - as the code infects more and more technology. It hacked into the audio for an entire movie theatre screening of the latest Superhero blockbuster four nights ago, and everyone at the Fortress is on high alert; now, more than ever, they need a breakthrough.

Hammer happens to be in his path, right in the middle of the doorway, when Phil tries to leave the complex. “Where are you going?” He asks. He's obviously just arrived back from the Fortress, still wearing his coat, a bar of chocolate clutched tightly in his left hand, half eaten.

“Um." Phil waits for Hammer to move and strides past him. "Out.” He wonders how quickly he can get his bike started.

“I’m coming.” Hammer follows him out. "I need some fresh air too," he says, despite the fact he's only just got in.

Phil ignores him and keeps walking. He's pissed off and he's stressed out and he doesn't need Hammer The Pixel following him around in the strangely comfortable and endearing way that he does. He doesn't need anyone and he doesn't want to need anyone either. If he learnt anything in the years after his father died, it's that the only person you can rely on is yourself.

"Wait up!" Hammer catches up too easily. Or maybe Phil has allowed him to - he isn't sure which is worse.

Phil turns around, teeth clenched. “Hammer…”

“Yes?” Hammer looks up at him, expectant, waiting. Doing as he's asked. Maybe he isn't so bad, Phil thinks. Maybe he's just lonely. Maybe they're both more similar than Phil has ever allowed himself to realise. Strider once said to him that the only way to survive would be to never let his guard down, and Phil gets this, he does. Living with a guard up is how he has got by for most of his life.

It's just that now sometimes he wonders if it would be so bad to let it down a little for the weirdo in front of him.

“Nothing." Phil sighs and motions to the Docati. "Come on then, lets go."

Hammer looks at the motorbike and then back at Phil. "I thought you didn't have a license."

"I don't, but who's going to teach me?" Phil says. He tries out a wry smile and it sticks. "Driving safely is not currently on the Fortress's list of things for me to learn, apparently."

Hammer seems happy with this response. It's not like Phil isn't right. When is he going to learn to drive now that he's owned by the Fortress? They've given him a bike, he should be making use of it.

"Well, I trust you to drive well," Hammer says, decisive and optimistic as always, and waits until Phil gets on before he climbs on behind him and wraps his arms around Phil's waist more tightly than necessary.

"I need to be able to breathe," he points out as he starts the engine, but Hammer's grip doesn't loosen and Phil can't find it in him to really mind.

 

\--

 

Hammer is waiting for him in the lobby of the building when he unplugs from the portal after a particularly gruelling battle.

"Ugh, it's been so annoying today," Hammer whines. "I haven't even had time to eat even one chocolate bar. Succubus is stressing out and the high level codes are infecting the U.S rapidly at the moment. Fourteen new cases in the last week!"

Phil has been logged into the system for three hours, but it's felt like thirty. He can't count on one hand the amount of times his entire life has flashed before of his eyes in the last few hours, and here is Hammer, rambling on and on and on about how he's not had a chance to eat a fucking bar of chocolate. It irritates him; he's tired and his heart is still racing, and he can still feel the claws of the A level code he'd had to fight as it had swiped viciously across his left arm. He doesn't care about how annoyed Hammer has been because he's almost died, _again_ , and he still isn't sure what he's fighting against or why.

"How are you, Phil?" He mocks Hammer's voice, or he tries to and fails, but he keeps going regardless. "I notice you almost died six times fighting those things. The cards I gave you were almost completely useless against that code, sorry about that."

Hammer looks at him as though he's from another planet. "What?"

"That's what you should be saying." Phil crosses his arms, and then uncrosses them again because they're sore and he's still shaken up, he's always shaken up after fighting, no matter how many times he's been plugged into the system now. It doesn't get easier. "Did you not see what level those codes I was fighting were, Hammer? I don't care that you're having chocolate withdrawals. I don't care that Succubus isn't praising your ass every five minutes."

"Oh. Right." Hammer nods, his frown of confusion turning into understanding. "Well… Are you okay?" He asks, and it does come out sounding genuine.

"I'm-- I'm fine. Are you heading home now with me to eat?" Phil starts walking. It's scary how quickly he wants to forgive Hammer for being selfish. Maybe it isn't Hammer he's angry with at all, it's just that Hammer is the only person to take his frustrations out on. He's the only person who _allows_ it. "You can eat some of the insane amount of the chocolate we have there if you're hungry."

"I should go home." Hammer follows. "I think I need a shower."

This makes Phil smile. Hammer is so odd. 'You _think_? What does that even mean?"

"I used to forget to sometimes. It didn't matter because it was just me and my computers. But now I don't live alone so I'm trying to live less like a recluse - sleep at the right times, shower at the right times, you know." He smiles and Phil tries to pretend it doesn't make him happy to see. "It's funny how things change.”

Phil murmurs an agreement. "How did Succubus persuade you to stop being a shut in and help out, anyway?"

"Don't you know?" Hammer looks surprised. "I though it was obvious."

Phil glances at Hammer, who looks genuinely perplexed. "What's obvious?"

"She told me about you," Hammer says. He looks kind of small right now and he folds his hands together awkwardly as he talks. "She told me you were working for them. She knew how much I care... I mean, how much I liked fighting you on Ticket of Fantasy. So I agreed to join the team."

"Oh."

Phil had always assumed there had been a large sum of money on the table, or that the Fortress had some information on Hammer like they had on himself. Something major, something that would make this seem like the only choice Hammer had. But the choice had been Hammer's apparently, and he'd made it to get to meet _him_.

"I'm glad you're still here, Phil." Hammer glances at him with earnest eyes, and Phil almost says, "Me too."

Instead, he replies, "Well, it is better than the alternative I guess."

"Death?"

Phil laughs. "I just meant it's better than living alone with Song Ji You, but that too."

Hammer grins back at him, back to his usual self, and then he winks. "I think Ji You's actually scared of me." He looks all sorts of proud, and kind of cocky as he says it. It suits him. "He's just our household puppy, really," he says, and laughs happily in the villainous way of his that Phil would now recognise anywhere.

"You're unbelievable" Phil mutters, but it's starting to sound like a good thing.

That night, he sleeps soundly, all the way through the night, and when he wakes up to Hammer’s ridiculous blue hair in his face and his hand on Hammer’s waist it isn't even half as bad as he assumed it would be.

It's kind of nice.

 

\--

 

Hammer is lying on his stomach on Phil's bed, not watching the movie that is playing on his laptop screen. Neither of them are watching it, really. Phil finds it hard to concentrate on anything these days - always half expecting a call from the Fortress telling him he needs to log in. Always ready to fight, on edge and exhausted. But still, it's nice to make believe, so Phil pretends he's in his college apartment with his roommate, just like he'd wondered about before this all happened.

Hammer may not be the typical roommate he expected, but he's the one that Phil has, and he's okay with that now.

“I kissed you when you were asleep once,” Hammer says out of nowhere, and the make-believe normality is shattered.

“What the hell? ” Phil pauses the movie. "What did you just say?

“I felt bad about it. A little." Hammer looks down at the bed. "I just thought you should know that we’ve kissed.”

“There is no _we_ in this." Phil sits up and curls his fingers into clenched fists. "You can't-- you can't do shit like that. I don't know why I even let you in here, I mean, you're-"

“I won’t do it again," Hammer says.

“I don’t believe you.” Phil takes a deep breath and resists punching Hammer straight in the face. He isn't sure what he's most annoyed about - Hammer taking advantage of him, or the fact that part of him wishes that Hammer would just do it when he's awake.

Hammer sits up. “Should I leave you alone now?” He asks.

Phil thinks about this for a long time. “No, we're finishing the movie.”

 

\--

 

Phil stays awake that night. He's still seething, even after he's had time to digest the craziness. Hammer watches him sleep, Hammer kisses him when he sleeps, Hammer eats chocolate and is a genius and is in love with him. He has never said it, but Phil isn't stupid. Or, maybe he is, because regardless of it all he doesn't actually want Hammer to stop any of it.

Hammer can clearly tell that he's only pretending to sleep and whispers, “I only did it when you’re having a nightmare.”

“You _are_ a nightmare.” Phil opens one eye.

“You seem happier afterwards.”

“It’s fucked up. You’re meant to get permission to do things like that.” Phil huffs. "Just because you've been living under a rock doesn't mean you can skip courtesy."

“I'm sorry.” Hammer is quiet for a while. “So, are you giving me permission then?” He asks, and Phil can't quite believe his ears.

“Just because Succubus and the team give into your _every whim_ because they’re scared you’re going to go back to eating take-out in your basement by yourself, or, worse, hack the entire system and kill us all, doesn’t mean you can have everything you want all of the time.”

Phil sighs. How has he become the moral centre of the universe they now live in? Everything feels like a strange dream now.

“So that's a no?” Hammer asks.

Phil grits his teeth. He wishes he could say that no is exactly what he means, but-- but he _doesn't_.

“I didn't say that,” he replies, and Hammer's hand finds his under the blanket. "Just... Can you maybe just _sleep_ when I sleep?"

Hammer says, "I could try if that's what you want."

And Phil nods. "It is." He turns his head to watch Hammer's eyes in the darkness. He looks so innocent like this, hair tousled and frame tiny.

It's a bad idea - terrible really - but Phil kisses Hammer anyway. Hammer tastes like chocolate, because of course he does. It’s sickly and too sweet and kind of like a fever dream, but so is Hammer himself, so it figures.

 

\--

 

Another night comes and with it another nightmare.

Blood washes over him in waves; drenching him, suffocating him. He gasps, gulps air into his lungs as the next wave of red rolls towards him. He wants to move but he’s weighed down, concrete for legs, and all he can do is wait to be engulfed.

When he wakes up with a big, desperate breath of relief, Hammer mumbles, “Chocolate pie with whipped cream.”

“What?” Phil gulps in air. His heart is thumping and he's so, so relieved that he's awake now, but what does chocolate pie have to do with anything?

“Think about it," Hammer mumbles. "Imagine chocolate pie, go on, do it.”

So, he does, and it is kind of a great distraction from the ringing in his ears, not that he wants to admit this to Hammer. 

Hammer sounds all sorts of smug when he breaks the silence in the room. “Feel better?” He asks.

Phil runs a hand over his face and sighs. “You’re such a damn weirdo, Hammer.”

"I'm a _genius_ ," Hammer corrects him, and Phil doesn't bother to argue.

When they kiss this time, Hammer tastes like spearmint gum; the sort Phil used to chew in class. But the cloying sweetness of milk chocolate remains on Hammer’s tongue and it’s familiar in a way that sends butterflies to the pit of Phil’s stomach.

Hammer might be everything that Phil never imagined and never wanted, but he's here, and he's _helping_ , and Phll thinks that, honestly, he might be even more than a little bit okay with it.

 

 


End file.
